


Once Was

by MapleTreeway



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: AU, Bard somehow finds out anyway, M/M, Pre-Battle of Five Armies, Thranduil doesn't want Bard to know that he's royal, slow burn sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleTreeway/pseuds/MapleTreeway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There once was a poor bargeman named Bard who befriended an elf. Every day the two would meet up by the river and talk while he collected barrels of wine.<br/>There once was an Elvenking named Thranduil who befriended a simple bargeman. Conversation, at first, was awkward, but eventually it smoothed out to easy chit chats about everything and nothing.<br/>The catch? Bard didn't know about his elven friend's status.<br/>Another catch? Thranduil was starting to fall in love again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Was

**Author's Note:**

> Second Barduil fic. I've been starting stories and never finishing them ever. They're all still WIP except for this one. And this...I have no idea what the fuck kind of writing style I was shooting for. Fairy tale? Folklore? Who knows? Not I. It's more formal than usual with a lot less swearing; so something new. This first chapter is more of setting the stage btw, the next chapters will be _much_ longer and more interesting. I promise!

There once was a bargeman named Bard who befriended an elf.

Every day the two would meet up by the river and talk while the bargeman collected barrels of wine. At first it was intimidating and awkward, on account that they barely knew each other and the elf's whole regal-like demeanor. But once they got to know each other the awkwardness and cold façade faded way to friendliness. Bard soon learned more about elves then he'd ever dreamed of knowing.

For instance, how they could sneak up so quietly and scare you shitless. It was a trick the elf liked to play on poor Bard. His lips would quirk upwards as he tossed his long, silver-blond hair over his shoulder. "Frightened again?" He'd tease in his baritone voice after his human friend would fall privy to a jumpscare.

"In your dreams," Bard would bite back.

That usually earned him a short laugh.

Another thing Bard learned was the language. Apparently there were different elvish languages. The elf he knew talked in Sindarin, saying things he would not translate to Westron. "It matters not," the elf would say, shrugging.

And Bard would reply, "It matters to me. I would like to know what's being said, thank you very much."

So in the end (thanks to a lot of pestering) he learned some Sindarin phrases. "Mellon" meant "my friend" and "Naden pedim ad" meant "until we speak again". He didn't dare speak them, however, for fear of butchering such a beautiful language. Quite content was he to listen to his elvish friend speak the words and translate them.

One more thing he learned about elves was their incredible hearing. Many times in the middle of one of their conversations, the elf would suddenly stop talking, motioning for Bard to do the same. A silence would fall (at least to the human's ears) before the elf would oftentimes get up and bade farewell before leaving. It was all very sudden and it confused the hell out of the bargeman.

When he asked about it one day, he was met with the unsatisfactory answer:

"I heard a patrol out in the woods. I had to take my leave before they saw me."

"But why?" Bard asked. "Are you a fugitive?"

The elf let out a soft laugh. "No, mellon, I am not a fugitive. Quite the opposite, seeing as I make the rules."

"What on Middle Earth does that mean?"

But the elf merely shrugged, changing the topic quickly. If Bard didn't know better, he'd say his friend was flustered. Yet he didn't push the topic any further. As long as the elf kept coming back to talk, it didn't matter.

It wasn't that Bard _looked forward_ to the idle chats. The had just grown to be expected. A habit. A now constant occurrence that happened every day for the past six months. And, he wasn't even going to try to lie, it took away some of the pain that had filled him since his wife died. An added bonus was that the elf was fun to be around, when he wasn't being an arrogant prat. He even brought a bottle of wine with him once in a while.

_Yes,_ thought Bard, _the elf makes for good company. It makes the job less boring, that's for sure._

\----

There once was an Elvenking named Thranduil who befriended a simple bargeman.

Every day the two would meet up by the river and talk while the bargeman collected barrels of wine. While at first conversation was awkward, it eventually smoothed out to easygoing talks that seemed to come naturally to them both.

It was nice, Thranduil supposed, to not be treated like a king for a while.

(Only the Valar knew how many centuries had passed since someone had spoken to him as a friend as opposed to a king.)

Sometimes, when the bargeman was feeling especially ballsy, he'd try to push Thranduil in the water. Usually it only happened when Thranduil "started behaving like a prat" or said something offensive. Although there were one or two rare occasions that just happened for fun.

The Elvenking honestly didn't mind too much. Sure, he would huff and give the bargeman the silent treatment - but it was all for show.

(He rather liked having his behavior checked. It put down boundaries that wouldn't dare exist if he were back in Mirkwood.)

They'd talk about everything and nothing. The time flying with every word. Even when the bargeman was finished stacking the barrels of wine, he stayed a bit longer. Thranduil learned from early on that the bargeman had a family, three children and a late wife. He himself could empathize, having lost his own wife in Dol Gudor many years ago. Legolas was just an elfling then, unable to remember anything about her, and Thranduil had no choice but to raise him alone. It had pained him to do so. His wife should have been there with them when Legolas shot his first arrow or began training or even just to watch him grow up.

When he told the bargeman this, the man's eyes softened and he clapped Thranduil on the shoulder. "I am sure you raised him well," he said.

A wistful feeling consumed the Elvenking as he felt himself give a small smile. "My thanks. I am sure you will raise your children well too, bargeman."

"Bard."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Bard." The bargeman - _Bard_ , Thranduil corrected himself - repeated, offering a hand.

Thranduil looked down at the hand with a raised eyebrow. Was this a normal custom to humans? To shake hands? And if it was, what name should he give? He couldn't possibly give out his real name, Bard would probably make a connection somehow and start treating him like royalty. And Thranduil surprised himself by not wanting that to happen. He liked being able to converse without any royal titles. An added bonus was that Bard meant what he spoke and spoke what he thought. If something offended or pleased him, he said so. If he thought Thranduil was being an arrogant bastard, he said so. Most of the time, he held nothing back; his tongue and wit sharp.

If Bard were to ever make the connection based on names, Thranduil was sure his friend would become _much_ more reserved.

But if he didn't...

After a long moment and a brief hesitation, Thranduil took Bard's offered hand and replied, "Thranduil."

It was a risk the Elvenking was willing to take.

Fortunately for him, his friend just grinned and nodded. The connection clearly lost on him. _Thank the Valar,_ Thranduil thought in relief.

And for a while afterwards, the connection would be lost. But all things lost must eventually be found, and such is the same for kings and paupers.


End file.
